


A Letter of Hope

by LordTraco



Category: Half-Life
Genre: Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Friendship, Gen, Guilt, Past Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:54:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29168394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordTraco/pseuds/LordTraco
Summary: There was a chasm between them now, much like the canyons he battled through not even a day ago. Gordon had been absent so long he wasn't even sure his ability to comfort his friend even applied anymore. He was starting from the ground up here, having to relearn his needs again. It hurt to admit, but he had no idea how to comfort his friend-turned-stranger.
Relationships: Barney Calhoun & Gordon Freeman, Barney Calhoun & Isaac Kleiner, Gordon Freeman & Isaac Kleiner
Comments: 10
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

"I remember you in pristine lab coats, wandering like a hopeful cloud in dry desert skies. Now you remind me of a sunrise; of fire ripping across the horizon that blinds all of us who only know candles."

Gordon sat quietly, letting Barney compose himself enough to continue. The letter he was reading from was aged and heavily creased with bloody smudges on the outermost squares. It was easy to imagine this man fumbling for that hopeful note after every terrible day. How many times had his gloved hands reached for that tiny note for an ounce of reassurance? 

How many innocent people's blood adorned that paper? How many doubts did the sweet man before him pour out in confidence with the silent page? How many people were beaten by his friend? And were the ones he saved enough to make that smile he wore genuine?

"They promise you will return. So we'll make your suit and we'll play their game and I'll..." He cleared his throat and shook his head, putting the note down for a moment. "I had a better note, it was all poetic and stuff, but it got ruined, so this is all I remember of it and-"

Gordon put a gentle hand to his shoulder and fixed him with a reassuring smile. 

Emboldened, Barney continued, "I'll hold your crowbar as if it's your hand. Because maybe that will... bring you back to us sooner."

Barney stopped again, struggling helplessly against the tears. His breath hitched and no matter how he looked at the ceiling and squeezed his eyes shut, the water still flowed.

Gordon opened his arms to offer a hug, but Barney shook his head. "Sometimes I swear this is a dream. You were gone _twenty years_ and suddenly you're back. I. I have to be going crazy, right doc?" The break in his voice on the last word was a huge crack in the dam holding him together.

Gordon hugged him, proving that he was real with a guilty heart. He wished he could have arrived sooner. He held his friend and cried as well. None of this was fair.

Barney hugged him like he didn't want to let go. He fought through sobs to talk as if he was afraid they had limited time left to speak. "They… the vorts, they. They made you out to be this huge figure, this savior. This beacon of hope. But all this time I remember you as my silly physicist buddy."

Gordon nodded into his shoulder, the hug and words relieving tension he hadn't noticed having. Even if the guilt weighed heavy on his heart, Barney was here. And Gordon was finally here to help.

"I can't rectify the two in my brain. I look at you and I'm back at Black Mesa waving to you while you pass on the tram. But you turn away and all I see is 20 years of hope paid off."

Gordon nodded again. It went unspoken that it was hard to mesh the man twenty years his elder with the friend he remembered talking with just a couple days ago. Of course it was still him, his voice, his face, his snark about Gordon's degree, but there was so much that was new now. 

He walked heavier now, announcing his presence with the same confidence as the rest of the CP officers. He had a happiness to his voice like he was grateful simply to hear it. Why wouldn't he, when the Combine stole that individuality from them all?

Gordon sniffled softly in Barney's embrace, heart filling with determination to end all of this. No matter what it took.

"I don't mean to put you on a pedestal like everybody else, but we've clung to your lambda symbol for so long I can almost ignore the irony. I still think Anomalous Materials should've had a cool symbol we could use."

Gordon chuckled soundlessly, pulling back to finally sign his thoughts, "I'm close enough to wearing the scarlet letter already."

Barney snorted loudly, wiping at his tears that now could be blamed on laughing too hard, "But imagine Breen's face! 'Hi Breen, I've committed adultery!'"

Neither could stop laughing long enough to form coherent words when Kleiner wandered in.

"Barney, you haven't laughed this hard since you saw Lamarr eating a picture of Breen."

"Hah! That was the only time I agreed with the ugly thing!" Barney said, patting the rug beside them for Kleiner to join in.

Instead, Kleiner noticed the note Barney had inadvertently left on his desk. Before anyone could stop him, he picked it up. "Oh this is your secret letter?" Kleiner handed it back to Barney without looking at it much. "I thought it was some of my calculations, but that looks like anything but numbers!"

The relief on Barney's face was evident to both of them as he snuck it back into a small cut in his suit. 

"You know, Barney might not be a master poet on paper, but he always has a way with words when cheering people up. If we didn't know you were coming back, I think the Resistance would rally around him!"

"Yeah right, this ain't a face that would sail any ships."

Kleiner and Gordon shared a look. Even twenty years later, he still underestimated his charisma.

"Plus, being a spy that wears this face half the time?" He held up his CP mask, "This kinda disqualifies me."

The air turned a bit cooler as the mask was brought up. The disgust and shame on Barney's face even holding the thing was undeniable. This wasn't the Barney that saved him and kept smiling through it all. This was the man he remembered; a bit of doubt in himself mixed with deep-set fear that nothing could change. What fears once applied to his job that was headed nowhere now applied to a whole world of issues. 

Gordon nearly fell back on his usual "it'll get better," but hadn't he said that just before the Res Cas? No, Barney knew all the reassuring lines by heart, he had to use them himself, after all. 

There was a chasm between them now, much like the canyons he battled through not even a day ago. Gordon had been absent so long he wasn't even sure his ability to comfort his friend even applied anymore. He was starting from the ground up here, having to relearn his needs again. It hurt to admit, but he had no idea how to comfort his friend-turned-stranger.

Luckily, Kleiner had no such gap in understanding their mutual friend. "Perhaps, but think how happy everyone will be the day you smash that mask to pieces!" 

Barney smiled, setting the mask farther from himself as if trying to hide it. "That day can't come soon enough!"

Gordon nodded, zoning out as the conversation became light and comfortable. He allowed himself room to breathe and relax in the presence of fellow people who wished him well. It wasn't long before he was falling asleep for what felt like the first time in ages.


	2. The lost poem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somewhere lost to time lies a note creased in hope and desperation, soiled with dirt, grime, and pain. And on that note is a completed poem that the writer remembers only figments of. Lost or found, its sentiment and hope live on in the world it inhabits.
> 
> You are not bound by the rules of such a world. You may read the poem in full.

A pristine white coat against desert skies,

The hope of relief such color belies,

Taken away in a desert storm,

With all but few whom we still yet mourn.

They say you will arrive like a morning sun,

Inspiring and igniting our passion, 

With your blazing gold and orange hues,

I can't help but feel you're being used.

Freeman, The Free Man, you will bring to us a light,

When all of us in whom you trust, have lived in naught but night.

In candles do we hide our warmth to fight off our dismay,

And in the coldness of their hate await your coming day.

We build your suit like a promise that it is in you we trust,

And until you're back, just know, that we are doing what we must.

I'll hold your crowbar as if it's your hand,

And make it through hell with thoughts of my friend.

Maybe someday the same will be true,

Gordon, hold this, and know I'm with you!

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feel free to comment or find me on Tumblr under the same username. I have a thousand and one fanfic ideas, I just need reminders people want to read them.


End file.
